


Maternity Leave

by peenwolf (cissues)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Age Swap, Blow Jobs, High School, M/M, No Werewolves, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 02:29:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cissues/pseuds/peenwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek isn't too sure about the new art sub.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maternity Leave

**Author's Note:**

> not mpreg but if you want to pretend they're pregnant then go for it.
> 
> Age swap, Derek is younger, Stiles is older. Derek is a Junior and Laura is a second year Senior trust me it works. Stiles is the new art sub.
> 
> This kinda sucks.
> 
> Sorry

Mrs. Holt had been close to bursting for months. Derek was surprised she hadn’t exploded right there in class. Well... she almost had. He would have never guessed that he’d witness a woman’s water breaking. Still, they got the rest of the period with Mr. Waterson who knew nothing about art and had given the hasty assignment of “draw something you like”. Derek’s lined notebook paper had a picture of ice cream on it. He actually didn’t like sweets, but Mr. Waterson didn’t have to know.

The topic of discussion was their new sub. They’d have to have one for months while Mrs. Holt was on maternity leave; the staff had been talking about a new sub hire for weeks now. They knew it was a guy and they knew he was young. There were the predictable murmurs of “probably a fag” and Derek had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. Comments like that were to be expected. Immature kids couldn’t find a fathomable reason for some young bachelor to want to teach art at a high school.

The next day the class of the 6th (and last) period of the day was greeted by a lanky, tired looking man in black slacks and a bright red button up rolled up to his elbows, the top button undone. Derek glanced around, noticing a few of the girls blushing and giggling as they watched the new sub gathering supplies for the day’s assignment, hands constantly moving, running through his short, messy hair and over his freckled face. He looked exhausted and it was only his first day, but he was still so full of energy as he bounced around the room as the students filed in.

The bell rang notifying the students that the period had started and the sub twirled around on his heel, arms full of paper and charcoal. Oh no.

“Okay, is that everyone?” He asked. The students glanced around at each other. Jackson threw Derek a sarcastic look. Derek tried to ignore it. He usually ignored Jackson.

The sub started dropping sheets of paper in front of people with a pack of charcoal each as he began rambling. “My name’s Mr. Stilinski. If that’s too hard for you to remember then too bad because I’m not going to answer to “mister” or “teacher”. I’m not a pet. I have my own name, thank you. Before you ask, my sexuality is not your business, my marital status is not your business, and what I do in my free time is definitely not your business. Your fellow classmates have, obviously, made a wonderful impression on me. I can only hope you don’t follow in their footsteps.”

Derek stared in awe as Mr. Stilinski set down his paper and pack of charcoals, mouth the tiniest bit agape. They’d never had a sub that was so forceful before. Maybe that’s why it took so long for the staff to hire just the right one. This guy knew what the fuck he was doing and made that abundantly clear. At least now Derek knew why he looked like he’d been babysitting monkeys on caffeine all day. Because dodging invasive questions and getting a large group of high school students to calm down when you have no authoritative sense established was basically the same thing as having to look after tweeked out monkeys.

Leaning back against his desk, Mr. Stilinski smirked and gesticulated widely with one hand. “Don’t get me wrong, though. This is art class. Art should be fun, or at least not boring. I’m not a hardass and I won’t fail you because you can’t draw past stick figures -- and don’t try to get off easy if you’ve got talent. I can recognize well drawn stick figures. I will find you. -- but if you try to take advantage of me I will give you detention.”

“I’m sure he’d love if we take advantage of him.”

Mr. Stilinski’s eyebrows shot up before he reached back towards his desk, retrieving a paper. “Ah, Mr. Greenberg! That was a very creative comment. I’m sure the other kids in detention would love to hear the other zingers you’ve been sitting on.” He said with a cold grin. Greenberg’s eyes widened, looking around at his fellow classmates helplessly. Mr. Stilinski revealed a seating chart. “I’m not stupid.” He remarked, rolling his eyes as he replaced the paper.

“Now, attendance, then I explain what you’re going to be doing with charcoal.”

Derek listened as Mr. Stilinski went down the line of students alphabetically, eying every kid as if memorizing who was who. When he got to Hale, Derek didn’t notice that he’d been holding his breath as he raised his hand, frowning at the new teacher. He couldn’t be seen submitting to a sub so soon. He’d risk a million detentions if it meant keeping his cred. Mr. Stilinski stared at Derek a moment longer, as if assessing him before moving on to Rebecca Hewett. Derek let out a sigh.

The assignment was shading blocks. A simple gradient going from darkest to lightest, practicing shading techniques. Derek purposefully made everything way lighter than he had to, as if he wasn’t even trying (when in fact he was trying very hard).

At the end of the period Mr. Stilinski went around collecting everyone’s paper before they could leave. He got to Derek, giving him a look along the lines of “Really, Hale?” and waved him off, shaking his head subtly.

Derek wondered why he felt so guilty as he stuffed his un-messed fingers in his leather jacket, noticing everyone elses fingertips smudged with dark charcoal. Even Greenberg’s.

He pursed his lips and stampeded his way out the front door.

 

When he got home, he noticed Laura’s Camaro in the driveway, giving it a fond look as he ran his fingertips along the hood on his way to the front door.

“I’m home!” He shouted into the mostly empty house. His sister’s answering shout of recognition drifted from the kitchen. He dropped his backpack at the bottom of the stairs and wandered in.

“Did you see the new sub?” She asked, a grin on her lips. Derek just nodded, perching himself on one of the bar stools. Laura looked over her shoulder, eyes narrowing briefly. “Oh, no. Don’t you dare fuck with that guy. He will fail you so hard. Derek, for once can you focus on the idea of college and a career instead of fretting about what your little lacrosse friends are going to think of you for the next two years?” She asked, looking almost pitying. Derek hated when she looked like that.  
“I’m not. I’m not going to fuck with him. I hate art, Laura. It’s hard to apply myself to something that sucks so bad.”  
He ducked out of the way of a flying macaroni box. “Shut up. I know you like drawing, at least a little. You’re great at it.”  
Derek just rolled his eyes, waiting patiently for their meager dinner to be ready, missing his mother’s home cooked meals every time he saw Laura leaning over the stove.

 

The next day was chaos. 

At lunch, Jackson and Greenberg discussed how often Mr. Stilinski took it up the ass while Lydia gave them disgusted looks and tried to engage Derek in conversation, only achieving one word replies. She eventually gave up and started talking to Danny about clubs that don’t card. Derek didn’t listen because he knew he would be invited anyway. 

He glanced at the window to the teacher’s lounge where Mr. Stilinski was sitting with the PE Teacher, Mr. McCall.  
They were smiling and laughing.  
Derek liked Mr. McCall. He’d be disappointed to know that one of his favourite students was disrespecting his new friend.

Derek sighed and picked at his burrito, not really feeling up to eating. He never really felt up to eating.

By the time the last period of the day rolled around, Derek was properly bitter after beating himself up about purposefully doing shit on the assignment. He sat down at his table, Jackson and Danny flanking him.

“God, I hope he’s not planning another boring ass assignment again today. It’s only been one day and I’m already tired of him.” Jackson whined. Derek noticed Danny’s subtle eye roll, gaze locked on Mr. Stilinski. It seemed the straight ladies were not the only ones immune to the guy’s clumsy charm.

Mr. Stilinski had another armful of paper as he called out attendance. Again, Derek felt the anticipation leading up to his name call, his pulse skipping when it was finally said and he raised his hand. Was he really this guilty?

After roll call, the papers were passed out. They were simple outlines of apples, except each paper had a hand drawn light bulb at different places on their papers. Derek’s was shining directly down onto the stem of his apple. He glared at it, his lips pursing. “This is bullshit.” He heard Jackson whispering, surely with his signature sneer.

“Alright, if you haven’t realized it already, we’re practicing more shading! Yay! Fun! Actually, to be honest, shading is some of the best fun you can have while drawing, just don’t get too carried away or you’ll turn into the next Tim Burton wannabe.”  
There was a ripple of giggles as students were unsure whether or not it was okay to laugh at this guy’s jokes yet. Was he cool enough or was he one of those teachers that the students scared into never making a joke ever again? They had yet to decide.

Mr. Stilinski used a real apple and a flashlight to help the students understand the way light and objects worked, then he looked directly at Derek.  
“And the stem must be incorporated. See how it blocks light from the very top, casting a long shadow over the rest of the apple? Take that into account.”  
Derek hasn’t glared at anyone that severely in a long time.

He seriously considers drawing a dick in his apple, but then notices how even Jackson is TRYING to shade his and decides against it. Instead he actually does a really good job, but purposefully leaves out the stem. He’s doodled a worm coming out of the apple and and the worm’s shadow before Mr. Stilinski called time. He collected each paper individually again. When he got to Derek’s he froze. Derek tried not to look smug.

“Beautiful work, Mr. Hale.” He murmured, throwing Derek a cold look before putting it back in the pile. Derek snorted before picking up his bag and leaving.

The weeks went on like this. Sarcastic remarks and even more sarcastic work. Derek made sure to do as well as he could manage, only leaving out key details that he knew Mr. Stilinski would notice. It was obvious that he had the man’s attention, but he was noticing a few sad looks being directed towards him by Mr. McCall.

“Derek,” He heard one day while taking a break from laps. He glanced up to see the PE teacher giving him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Oh no. He knew this was coming, the inevitable guilt trip from Mr. Stilinski’s seemingly ONLY friend on the entire staff and Derek’s favourite teacher.

“Hey, teach.” Derek greeted with an equally half-hearted smile. Mr. McCall sat down carefully next to the kid, running a hand through his wild hair. “So, Sti-- Mr. Stilinski tells me you’ve been sassing him.”

Sassing.

“Those words exactly?”

Mr. McCall’s mouth twitches. “He calls you the sassmaster.” He says, barely able to hold in a giggle. Somehow, that doesn’t seem like a bad thing.  
“And?” He prompts, wondering if there was some sort of scolding that went along with mentioning Derek’s current title as ‘the sassmaster’.

“He’s just... he likes you. He thinks you do beautiful work, but he’s really put off by your “attitude”. I know you don’t have an attitude, so what’s up?”  
Derek sighed, passing a hand over his face. “I don’t know, sir. I just really don’t enjoy that class, I guess. It’s hard--” He stopped himself. “I just don’t like art. It’s boring.”

Mr. McCall nodded wisely. “Trust me, there’s a reason I’m a PE teacher.” He murmured, stroking his patchy stubble. “I’ll talk to him, maybe there’s a way--”  
“No, please. I just want to wait it out until he leaves. I know you like him, sir, but I don’t want to make it into a thing. I’ll stop acting up if you keep this conversation confidential. I don’t care what you tell him, you could say that I think he looks like a spider monkey and it throws me off or something, I don’t care. Tell him I hate him. Just... don’t make me one of those project kids.”

Mr. McCall stared for a moment before frowning sadly. “Yeah. Okay.” He answered before standing up and going to attend to a victim of a unsportsmanlike push. Really. Were they in middle school?

PE was only twice a week at the end of a shortened period day, so art class was, thankfully, not an issue right now and Derek could do his homework without the lingering guilt he always got from that class.

The next day, Mr. Stilinski didn’t return any Derek’s comments with his snarky remarks (“Mr. Stilinski, I broke another pencil.” “I feel bad for your girlfriend.”). In fact, he barely met Derek’s eye when they handed in their assignment at the end of the day -- collages describing everyone’s favourite thing. Derek’s had a lot of words like “ecstasy”, “bursting”, “hot”, and “slippery” accompanied by a lot of bare skin of models. To be fair, it was kind of beautiful.

Just as Derek was about to leave, Mr. Stilinski slapped a sticky note on his desk. Derek had seen these sticky notes before. They were given to students when Mr. Stilinski wanted to talk to them after class. Even though the other students knew what it meant, the sub usually tried to be as subtle as possible. He had made an audible thump when he gave Derek his.

Sitting back down in his seat slowly, Derek tried not to let himself shake with anticipation as Danny and Jackson each gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder before exiting after everyone else. Soon, it was just Derek and Mr. Stilinski.

The elder man had his arms crossed and a stern look that was honestly freaking Derek out. He’d thought they had some sort of mutual banter thing going on. It had worked for Derek. He could kind of enjoy himself in class for once and now he was getting in trouble for it? Had he gone too far?

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hale. I just--” Mr. Stilinski pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m just trying to fathom what I did to make you hate me. I know some of the things I say might be construed as harsh, but hatred? You do understand that hate is a very strong word and can hurt people, right?”

Derek honestly had no idea what to say. So Mr. McCall might have taken Derek a little too seriously. Honestly, he’d been plotting what he was going to do when he became Mr. Stilinski’s “project”. He had started looking forward to it, actually. The thought of staying after school to expand on his art like you see in all those coming of age movies. Having a piece of his artwork submitted to a competition and win, the knowledge that his father would be so proud of him. This... really wasn’t what he was expecting. That must have shown on his face.

“Ah, so you didn’t think Sco-- Mr. McCall would call you out. Sorry, but we’re teachers, not your best friends. Sometimes there are things that--”  
“Please stop talking.” Derek said, suddenly, a hand covering his eyes as he tried to figure out how to get out of this. He didn’t want Mr. Stilinski thinking he hated him. He really didn’t. He enjoyed their mutual teasing and camaraderie, it was comfortable and pleasant. He wanted that back.

“Excuse me, Mr. Hale--”  
“No, I just-- I don’t hate you. Mr. McCall, as I’m sure we can both agree, is not the brightest bulb. He came to talk to me about your concerns about me and misread my reaction. I sound like a lawyer, wow.”

Mr. Stilinski eyed him warily, but waved for him to continue.

“I dunno, I like you. I think you’re funny and cool, even though some of the other kids like to pretend you’re not. I just didn’t want you to think of me like some special project kid that needs fixing or an artistic awakening or some shit. I just want to blend in and finish high school. I don’t need anything more than that.”

Now the man was staring, flat out staring, eyebrows furrowed inquisitively. Derek held his breath before Mr. Stilinski was nodding his head.  
“I believe you.” He murmured, running a hand through his hair. “I like you too, Mr. Hale--”  
“Can you call me Derek? Mr. Hale was my dad.”  
Mr. Stilinski obviously noticed the past-tense but didn’t try to get Derek to elaborate, which he was grateful for.

“You need to stop interrupting me, Derek.” He said with a smile playing at his lips. “As I was saying, I like you too. In fact, just between you and me, you’re my favourite student. I do think your art is incredible and I wish I could make you, as you put it, a “project”, but I’ll respect that you don’t want that. I just know of a couple competitions that you might benefit from and was hoping before this whole debacle if you would give me a piece of original work to consider.”

Yeah, he definitely noticed how Derek’s eyes widened with excitement at that. He’d pretty much disappointed both his parents with his life so far, the least he could do was show that he wasn’t a total slacker.

“I’ll take that as a--”  
“I don’t even know what to do!”  
Mr. Stilinski laughed. “Wow, you really do need to work on that interrupting thing.”  
Derek tried not to blush.

“If you were interested, I wouldn’t mind helping you find some creative direction after school. You wouldn’t be a project or a “special kid”, just someone using the supplies the school has to offer, which includes my help.” Mr. Stilinski said as if he was suggesting something that Derek could not refuse.

Derek glanced at the door worriedly. What if someone found out he actually had a rapport with the sub? What if someone found out he was actually half decent at art and was entering competitions (seriously, how nerdy is that?). He tensed when a hand landed on his arm, then instantly relaxed when he noticed Mr. Stilinski smiling at him. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.” He promised with a grin.

So this was going to be a thing.

Art class didn’t change in the way of Mr. Stilinski and Derek’s interaction. They were both still trying to be the smartest ass, getting a giggle out of the rest of the class when Mr. Stilinski announced that Derek’s rendition of a dog (made artfully yet obviously out of a dick ‘n’ balls) was quite the masterpiece, to which Derek bowed, a smug look on his face. He wouldn’t admit the tingling in his stomach at the wink Mr. Stilinski aimed at him.

Instead of waiting blatantly for the rest of the class to filter out, Derek took a long ass time collecting his stuff, telling Danny and Jackson that he had to go ask Coach Finstock a few things. Once everyone left, Mr. Stilinski immediately went about collecting different materials. Watercolors, acrylics, oil pastels, charcoal (oh, the charcoal), and plain old pencils, pens and markers, although they looks heavy expensive.

He laid them all out with a stack of different sketch pads, surveying his work carefully before gesturing Derek to come over.

“So, I’ve prepared a few classic mediums for you to experiment with. Personally, I love watercolor. You have to be so careful with it, but it always turns out soft and beautiful, even if you mess up. That’s my favourite part.”  
He was smiling as he picked up a paintbrush and fingered it delicately, like it was about to break. Derek swallowed around a lump gathering in his throat, trying not to focus on why it was there. He held out a hand for the brush and Mr. Stilinski handed it to him, fingers brushing against Derek’s palm. He shivered.

“I guess that’s where I’m starting then.” He said with a smile. Mr. Stilinski grinned.

The next hour was spent trying to understand the mechanics of watercolors, something that Derek obviously wasn’t attuned to. He came away, however, with a really truly gorgeous picture of a wolf that Mr. Stilinski had painted for “reference”. It was a little bigger than Derek’s palm and it immediately made it’s way to his bedside table where the wolf howled at him until he turned off the light and the room went dark.

Over the course of a few days of hidden lessons Derek found that he really knew how to work with pencils and pens. It was easier for him than trying to finesse watercolors, control acrylics, and not smudge oils. Mr. Stilinski seemed to understand that. He taught Derek things like basic anatomy, styles, introduced him to both realist and cartoon artists. The lessons turned from one hour to several and Derek found himself doodling far more often than not. Laura even commented on it one day over a dinner of spaghetti-o’s.

“Shit, Der! These are amazing! Like, you could submit these to the funnies and they’d be paying you the big bucks for more.”  
Derek just shrugged, but inside he was glowing with pride. Laura seemed to know that because she smirked knowingly and handed the stacks of sketches and doodles. “So that art class is working out? Taking a fancy to Mr. Stilinski?”  
And just like that Derek had clammed up, eyes wide as he rushed to the sink to rinse off his dish, because... yeah. He was taking a fancy to his substitute art teacher. The guy was charming as hell, it was a trap Derek was sure. In just a few days the teacher had Derek tripping over himself to get more. The worst part was, Derek was certain that Mr. Stilinski had no idea what he was doing so there was no way to tell him to “back off” without admitting he had a huge boner for the guy.

“Okay, touchy. Obviously you need to go brood, so I’ll finish cleaning these up.” Laura said with a roll of the eyes as Derek grabbed his school stuff and stalked up to his room.

The next class found Derek a little more jumpy than usual. His realization of his attraction to Mr. Stilinski has thrown him off guard. Controlling the way he interacts with the other man was difficult and he found himself coming off as more awkward than anything. Finally, it was time for his extra art time and Derek found Mr. Stilinski more reeled in than usual, as if he was holding back.

“Have I bothered you somehow?” He asked, suddenly, causing Derek’s hand to jerk and streak pencil right through the flames he’d been meticulously sketching. Groaning out irritably, he shot the other man a glare. At least he looked guilty.  
“Now you have.” He murmured, going in and erasing carefully around the flames.

When he finished he set his tools down, sighing softly. Before he knew what was happening, Mr. Stilinski was sitting on the table next to his “station”, giving Derek the most worried expression he’d ever seen.  
“Um, no. No you haven’t bothered me.” He answered, eyes narrowing. Mr. Stilinski breathed out a sigh of relief but still looked worried. “Is there anything I did?”  
“Besides be infuriatingly attractive? I don’t think so.”  
The words were out before he could filter them and the only thing he could do was purse his lips and stare blankly at the table, hoping to Hell and back that Mr. Stilinski didn’t hear him. He didn’t need to get into trouble for this of all things.

“I’m sorry, what?” It came, finally, like it was pulled out of the older man’s lungs by force. Derek just shook his head, starting to collect his things as fast as possible. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Trust me, it’s nothing.” He murmured, stuffing his sketch pad unceremoniously into his backpack, something that he internally winces for and will regret later. He hurries from the classroom as fast as possible, his ears and neck burning dangerously. Mr. Stilinski doesn’t follow him.

The preceding day ends with PE. All of art class was awkward and stuffy and Mr. Stilinski doesn’t really say anything to anyone and definitely didn’t make eye contact with Derek the entire time. He looked like he hadn’t slept and was on the verge of a panic attack all period.

In PE Mr. McCall approached him during a basketball break, looking apprehensive. “You... shouldn’t go to the art thing tonight.” He says gently. Snorting Derek rolls his eyes. “So he told you what I said.” He murmured, rubbing salty sweat from his eyes and only succeeding in rubbing it in more. He blinked away the tears. “I know I messed up. Like I was even planning on going tonight anyway.”  
“But go tomorrow.”

Derek looked up at the other man who looked simultaneously confused and determined. “He needs you to explain, but he needs time to think. Just... tell him... what you meant.” He looked physically pained, obviously uncomfortable with encouraging a student to admit attraction to a teacher, even if they are a sub.

“Okay.”  
Mr. McCall looked up in surprised, eyebrows shooting up. “Really?”  
Derek shrugged. “I kind of left him hanging. The least I could do is explain myself.” He tried not to let the pain of getting rejected show, even if he knew it wasn’t a viable option from the beginning. It still sucks.

Mr. McCall nodded slowly, walking away without a farewell, as if too deep in thought to remember. Derek sighed and ran back to join the game, although his head was no longer there.

 

Derek wasn’t sure he was capable of being this nervous. He’d been wiping his hands on his jeans throughout the entire art lesson, trying to rid his palms of the sweat they’d been building. He couldn’t meet Mr. Stilinski’s gaze which -- contrary to the previous day -- wouldn’t leave Derek. When the bell blessedly rang, Derek started his slow gathering of items as he waved goodbye to Danny and Jackson, no longer interested in why he stayed so late all the time.

When everyone left he got out his sketch pad like always -- wrinkled now from where he’d jammed it into his bag -- and sat at the table, but his hands were shaking too much for him to work.

It was okay, though, because he’d worked on the piece the night before, using the pack of expensive markers Mr. Stilinski had gifted him to color it in. It looked close to finished, but there was still some shading and details left, something that would have to wait until another day.

“That’s... beautiful.”

The voice came as a surprise, even though Derek had been sitting in suspense waiting for it to appear. “Yeah. It’s you. And me.” He said softly, resting his elbows on the table as his head fell into his hands. He covered his eyes, feeling Mr. Stilinski’s presence right behind him, standing unnecessarily close so he could pick up the sketch. The fox curled around the black wolf like a fiery yin-yang. The flames around the two were wild and realistic, layered with color after color to give them dimension. The fox had familiar, knowing caramel eyes and the wolf’s own glowed a gentle green-blue. The colors were bright and exciting and Mr. Stilinski was looking at it for a very long time.

Finally lifting his head to see what the holdup was, he found Mr. Stilinski staring at him, a look of realization on his face, the picture held delicately between his hands.

“When I said I thought you were attractive, I meant it. I find you incredibly... enchanting. Ugh, wow that sounded dumb. I don’t know, you’re just so interesting and charming and I like looking at you and being around you. I know it’s some fucked up teacher-student thing and by no accounts do I expect you to reciprocate, I just wanted you to know. To be aware.”

Mr. Stilinski was still staring, but now his eyes had narrowed slightly and his tongue was tracing thoughtfully over his lips. “Derek,” He started, looking almost pained to say the word. Derek just shook his head, holding a hand up with a sad smile. “I know, it’s fine.” He answered. “I’m barely eighteen, even if I were to graduate tomorrow, it would still be... mess up.”  
Mr. Stilinski winced. “Derek,” He repeated, his voice more warning than anything.  
“Please. Mr. Stilinski--”  
“Stiles.”

They both stopped, Derek from his movements to pack up and leave and Mr. Stilinski from trying to prevent him from doing so.

“My first name. It’s Stiles. It feels weird to be so into someone that still calls you ‘Mr. Stilinski’. Thank God my dad’s “Sheriff Stilinski” and not “mister” or else I’d be afraid of developing a complex.”

Derek stared, hoping he heard that correctly. “‘Into’?” He asked, using his fingers as quotation marks. Mr. Stilinski -- Stiles chuckled, running his long fingers through his messy hair, that of which had grown out a little since he started. “Forgive me for not having a more eloquent way of putting it without sounding way too forward and creepy.” He said with a nervous smirk. Derek set his things down slowly before pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, staring wide at the floor.

“So, you’re attracted to me?”  
“It seems so.”  
“And you’re okay with the fact that I’m like ten years younger?”  
“Eight, but yeah, whatever. Age is but a number. You’re a consenting adult, I’m a consenting adult. You’re consenting, right?”  
Suddenly Stiles looked nervous again, twisting his fingers around his wrist. Derek took a moment before laughing out loud. “Yeah. Sure. As long as you realize you could lose your job over this conversation alone.”

Suddenly Stiles froze, looking distressed. “I’m not going to tell anyone, but I’m just saying.”  
Relaxing a little, the older man nodded slowly. “The first time I saw you I thought to myself, ‘How can a student be that hot? That’s not fair. That student is making me creepy with how hot he is.’ and I was hoping it would go away but then you started joking with me and being adorable and stuff and it definitely didn’t help. So, really, it’s you’re fault if I lose my job.” He said with a smirk. Derek rolled his eyes, chancing to step forward a little. 

“When I first saw you, I thought ‘Wow, what a dork. How is it possible for him to be artistic if he can barely hold himself upright.’ and then we started these sessions and I saw you really in your element and you were... beautiful. Is that okay to say? Can I tell you that you were beautiful? Because it’s true. It’s the only way to describe you then, to be honest. And then I noticed how charming and cute you were. You cared about me and you wanted to see me succeed. You cared about my art, even when I didn’t. Good lord, was this just a gigantic ruse to be the next Robin Williams? I am not joining your Dead Artists Society!” Derek finished his rant off with a playful lilt, grinning as Stiles made a big, defeated gesture. “You found me out!” He admitted, winking playfully at Derek which only succeeded in a blush.

Suddenly, their banter/confession of feelings grew quiet. Stiles glanced briefly up at the closed classroom door before stepping inches from Derek, inviting the younger boy to take what he wanted.

And he did. Derek reached up to grab the back of Stiles’ head and pull him forward, glad that he was only slightly shorter than the other man. They kissed sweetly for a millisecond before Derek pushed Stiles against the table, gripping his hips possessively as their kiss turned deep and desperate. They grabbed and scratched and pulled until they finally parted, disheveled and a little thrown off.

Derek noticed the unused desk, a smile stretching over his lips as he pulled the older man along with him.  
“Get on the desk.” He said in a purr, patting the wood. Stiles hesitated for a moment before perching himself on the edge. It took very little time before Derek was attacking Stiles’ belt buckle and opening the older man’s pants as gently and as fast as he could. When he finally got out Stiles’ cock, he was hit with the reality of the situation when the other man inhaled sharply and let out a choked moan.

He took a deep breath and knelt in front of his substitute teacher and plunged right in with a teasing lick up his shaft, teasing the underside as best he could, trying to mimic the way he’s seen in porn, as this was his first blowjob to date. Stile seemed to enjoy it though as he buried one hand in Derek’s hair and used the other to keep himself upright. Derek teased with his tongue a little more before tentatively wrapping his mouth around the head of Stiles’ dick, sucking experimentally. From there, he wasn’t sure what to do, so he just spit on the base of the older man’s cock and used his hand to pump what his mouth couldn’t reach.

He did this, trying to do the things that he knew would feel good to him, and made it to about three minutes before Stiles was pushing him off, urging them to switch places, a grin playing on his lips as he quickly and deftly undid Derek’s pants and pushed them and his underwear past his ass before seating him on the desk, mouthing his cock expertly, his moaning sending vibrations through Derek that he knew he couldn’t have matched.

Stiles could fit considerably more down his throat than Derek could, but he still used his hand to pump the rest as his head bobbed on Derek’s cock.

It took a predictably small amount of time before Derek was moaning out his warning and he was coming into Stiles’ mouth. He noticed moaning around his dick all throughout but only just realized that the older man had been jacking himself off the entire time. Derek was a little disappointed that he wasn’t able to do that, but his worries disappeared when Stiles met his lips in a chaste kiss, a tissue in his hand to clean himself off.

Taking the tissue from him, Derek went about cleaning the other man off, smirking when he has to touch Stiles’ oversensitive dick and the man jerked, his knees falling out for a moment. When he was clean they both put themselves away and Stiles invited Derek over to his big comfy teacher chair, on which they cuddled a little with Derek on Stiles’ lap (although Derek will insist that the position was forced, even if he enjoyed it more than a little).

“So,” Derek murmured into Stiles’ neck, nose pressed into the skin there. Stiles chuckled and Derek could feel the vibrations. “So.” He responded, leaning down to look at the other boy.  
“What’s this going to be?”  
Stiles shrugged. “I can’t date you legally until I’m done with my subbing here, and even then I’d rather wait until you graduate so we don’t raise too many questions. I mean, if you’re up to keeping it a secret.” Then he looked panicked “If you’re even up for it at all. Jesus, what is wrong with me. You high schoolers probably do this shit all the time. I shouldn’t expect--”  
“Yeah, I can wait to tell people.” Derek said, grinning at Stiles’ put out expression. “I told you, you need to work on that interrupting thing. So that’s a yes, you’ll date me?”  
“Yeah, sure. You’re pretty cool.”

Derek received a hard bite to the shoulder for that.

He didn’t mind.


End file.
